Arrows Of Desire
by Calmardaa
Summary: Few bad words and some 'implied' slash. Part Two is up! TWO YEARS of my life so far! This fic is finally here and thanks for your patience. Summary: Draco and Harry love each other, or at least they think they do, that's enough isn't it?


Disclaimer: The day when Draco and Harry have 'Property Of Georgia' tattooed across their arses is the day ......... well, the day I can finally throw away that Genie's lamp, but as I can't see that in my Crystal Bawl (Patent Pending) yet, I think we can all just assume that it's not going to be any time soon.  
  
**The Story Overall.**  
Rating: R for various reasons.  
_Summary: Draco and Harry love each other, or at least they think they do, isn't that enough?_  
Warnings. *takes deep breath* Gushiness, character death, mushiness, another character death, confusing plot lines (sorry, but hey, I confuse myself most times, why should I treat you guys any different :P), no sex scenes (can't be bothered, just make it up yourself), sentimental drivel (really going overboard with that kind of stuff in this one ....... it's a nice change :P), and anything else I might happen to think of (translation ...... be afraid :D).  
Notes: **Bold** is emphasis. Normal writing means they are in England. "Normal speech" means they are speaking English. _Italic writing_ means they are not in England. _"Italic speech"_ means they are not speaking English.  
  
**This Part.**  
Part: One of Fifteen  
Warnings: None for this part except that it was written well before the fifth book came out. (Just before the first movie came out actually.) I gave it a few quick looks and couldn't find anything that clashed, but yeah, I might have missed something.  
  
  
Also, let's give a big hand to my pal Roxa, who was nice enough to play Beta. Any mistakes in spelling and grammer are her fault now. :)

  
  
Arrows Of Desire - Part One  
  
Harry curled his arms around his legs and rested his forehead on his knees. He wasn't exactly sure of how long he had been sitting in the dimly lit room, but had to concede that it must have been at least four days. His head ached, he felt weak, as they hadn't given him much food when they actually bothered to, and his skin was starting to itch from that horrible feeling of 'dirtiness' that happens when you don't have a shower for a while. His hair felt almost slimy to the touch, always making him wonder when Professor Snape would arrive to rescue him whenever he pushed his fringe out of his face. That in turn would lead to the question of whether or not the professor was still alive, therefore able to come and get him at all.  
  
He thought that, at the very least, **someone** should be able to, if not his potions professor, that they all couldn't have died in such a short time span. He frequently tried to imagine what was keeping them, hoping they hadn't just assumed that he'd find his own way out. That wasn't looking very likely, no matter how powerful or lucky they kept telling him he was.  
  
He really regretted now that another way had not been available to get to Hogwarts. Having the journey cut short by the train, nearly getting ripped into two, and then being grabbed by people in masks and dragged to only God knew where was not the way he had envisioned beginning his seventh year at school. Not even close.  
  
Admittedly, he had toyed with the horrific ideas that involved rampaging Death Eaters and Voldemort looming out of his misleading obscurity of late, but those had all centred around **before** he got on the train on his way to school and **after** exiting said train, at the end of school. He **had** planned on a nice, quiet year of only leaving his dorm room for meals and lessons, for a change. That decision had been made towards the end of the summer break, by him for once, therefore far more likely to be followed. He had realised that it sounded like a simply smashing idea after the debacle of last year.  
  
He found it almost ironic that the one time he had firmly resolved to not do anything that would be considered reckless, ended up being the year when he didn't even manage to **get** to Hogwarts.  
  
He warily glanced to the door as it swung open for the first time in at least twenty-eight hours. He had to resort to squinting as he didn't have his glasses, they had been broken in the scuffle and then confiscated anyway. He wished that his wand had not been taken as well, but found it hard to imagine a scenario in which even these people would omit such a sensible decision. He didn't know the names of the two men who came in to fetch him, but that was far from the most pressing thought that was concerning him right now.  
  
Voldemort had obviously called for him, finally.  
  
Rough hands grabbed him around the arms and he saw no point in trying to fight them off as he was lifted to his feet. They guided him through a maze of corridors and rooms until arriving at the one they were obviously suppose to report to. Harry actually took pleasure in watching them tremble at the thought of being in Voldemort's company. He liked the idea that most of the followers were bullied cowards and only there out of fear rather than true conviction, that would make it much easier for the resistance to win.  
  
He was ushered through the doorway, more from the Death Eaters deciding it would not be advisable to take too long in obeying their orders, than from them gaining any sort of courage, and found himself to be in a dining hall. The almost humorous thought that he had missed the Sorting Feast to be here, briefly flitted across his mind but it didn't make him smile. He was basically dragged to the top of the table where Voldemort seemed to be enjoying a nice meal and then just held there as the dark wizard and Lucius Malfoy looked him over. His head throbbed angrily.  
  
"Yes, I can see what you meant, Lucius. Very virginal and that can be to our advantage. Well, what do you think? Will he have any objections? And, more importantly, can he do it?"  
  
"So long as they clean him up a bit, I can't see any reason to allocate him to someone else. But do make sure he **is** clean, Draco can't stand his possessions being dirty."  
  
Voldemort smiled at Harry, making the boy want to punch him but having to settle for just glaring. "You're in luck once again, Mister Potter. Despite your attempts to enrage and embarrass me over the years, I've finally seen wisdom in Lucius' words of patience. Best to keep you alive for now, I think. I'll see you tomorrow night. Take him away and wash him."  
  
He was pulled from that room and taken to a very large bathroom after an additional trip through seemingly endless corridors. He struggled briefly when they first started to remove his clothes, but after a few knocks to the head and the fact that he already felt weak, all the walking having just worsened it, he gave up the fight, deciding that it would be best to conserve what little energy he had left and use it to attack Malfoy. Harry had the disheartening impression he knew exactly what Voldemort wanted him to suffer through while he was 'lucky' and still alive.  
  
'Humiliation is always the best weapon.' He thought to himself as his minders pushed him into the bath and proceeded to scrub his skin, dunking him under the water every now and then.  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
To say that Draco was not in a good mood would have been a gross understatement. And unless you were of a very special kind, to say anything **to** him at the moment would also have been the last decision you could make before your rather sudden death. He was in fact livid. The insult to his ego by being ordered around like a common servant, the same insult that he had until now tolerated, had been nothing compared to what was now set before him. _"I have no other choice open to me."_ He argued back, having been trying to get the other to see his point of view for at least five minutes of his precious time. Time he could be using to break things ... like necks and arms and legs. Other peoples', of course.  
  
_"Yes, you do."_ The voice among the shadows replied. _"You just wish to not think of the alternatives."_ A soft popping noise sounded when the voice fell silent.  
  
_"We really should test it as it is and you know what my thoughts are on the other subject. Surely I don't have to explain myself to you again?"_  
  
_"While it is true that we have no guarantees as to whether it will work the way we wish it to, if it is not functioning properly then what you telling me you are going to try **will** kill him. Then what will happen to the design that we have worked so hard to perfect and sacrificed so much for?"_  
  
_"I will accept all responsibility, should things go against what we have already planned. And even if it does kill him, we will think of another way. Surely not everything will be lost if we miss this chance? We may salvage something."_  
  
_"Very well. If I can not tempt you otherwise, take it and do as you will."_  
  
Draco picked up the bundle of cloth that held what he had come for and walked out quietly. He was not looking forward to this. He had been summoned from his room and brought in front of Voldemort himself, only to hear that it had been decided for **him** to be the one who would receive Harry Potter. Voldemort had decreed that being the property of Draco, his school rival, would be the most humiliating circumstance that they could force upon the boy. Draco had thought that perhaps handing him over to Pettigrew, the man who had betrayed his parents, would probably have been worse for Harry, but he had wisely held his tongue.  
  
Besides, Draco had to allow that the young Gryffindor probably could have killed Pettigrew even if he didn't have a wand and his parents' traitor did. Pettigrew had to be one of the most spineless idiots Draco could remember ever encountering and that was more than just saying a lot, that was positively damning.  
  
This left the blonde in an awkward position though. Voldemort wished for Harry to be disgraced to breaking point, then beyond, for the next night's ceremony. Break his spirit so that he couldn't, or wouldn't, resist to the absorbing ritual and Draco knew exactly what the old wizard had meant by that. Rape, torture, and degradation. This, aside from the assumption that he was only here to follow commands, annoyed him rather a lot. The last two would have been no trouble but that first one was what had angered him. Draco couldn't stand rapists, never had and never would. He considered them to be the most lowest form of human being possible and was not about to become one, no matter who ordered it. This was not helped by the fact that Harry had 'smelt pure' to the deranged old loon who was currently trying to reclaim his leadership and anger the gods, meaning the blasted boy was a virgin and having sex with him would be almost unavoidable if Draco wished to continue appearing obedient.  
  
And that was highly crucial, especially now. Because if it all went smoothly, tomorrow night would be the climax. The end to a scheme that had been planned so meticulously, and now it was all down to one tiny thing, wrapped in cloth, that Draco held to his side as he walked along. If he was suddenly killed, there and then, not even Dumbledore would have been able to pry it out of Draco's cold, dead hand. He knew he had far too much riding on this to screw it all up.  
  
He sighed in disgust at what he was now forced to do, but reasoned his anger down by reminding himself that if this went well, then he would not have to act the 'good disciple' role for much longer. He arrived back at his room and opened the door, not at all surprised to see Harry, clean and neat, sitting in a chair with two guards to ensure that nothing went wrong. He placed his parcel on the bed as he walked passed and gave a civil nod to the men who stood as sentinels over the unfortunate other boy. They returned it as he went to a large chest and opened it, taking out the top item and walking back to Harry.  
  
"Hello, Potter." He said brightly. Knowing what he was about to do, it was fairly pointless to keep his facade intact with the boy any longer. "This is merely a formality."  
  
"Fuck off." The other muttered back.  
  
Draco fitted the heavy collar made of iron links around the boy's neck, his smile not dimmed by the rude reception. "Looks like we're going to be stuck together. For a little while, at least." He gave Harry an apologetic look as if to say that he was sorry for the inconvenience.  
  
"If it's so awful, you could just kill me." Was the spiteful reply.  
  
"I might." Draco conceded with a couple of small nods, thinking that if anything had gone wrong, Harry's death was a strong possibility. "But I'll try not to." He checked that the collar was on properly and then waved his hand at the guards, dismissing them. They walked out quietly, but left the door open, making Draco frown in annoyance. "The manners of some people, honestly." He left it for now and turned back to his new companion. "Well, I hope you like your new clothes, they don't fit perfectly, but that's only to be expected seeing as I am a little taller than you and they used to be mine."  
  
"Let's just get with over with, shall we?" Harry tensed his jaw and held his head up proudly.  
  
"Get what over with?" Draco said back cheerfully, going over to the dresser and checking his hair in the mirror.  
  
"Well, first you'll probably torture me for a few hours, then rape me and possibly even bring in a few of your friends to join in the fun. Or maybe you'll rape me first so that I'm not worn out from all the screaming and I can hear all the disgusting things you'll no doubt whisper to me while I'm pinned. Who knows, but can we just get on with it? I quite like the idea of you not being able to break me. You can do whatever you want to my body, but I won't give in easily, Malfoy."  
  
Draco sighed to himself, saying that the boy was right and that they had better get on with it. But first. "Are you hungry?"  
  
This had not been the 'absolute' last thing Harry had been expecting, but it came awfully close. "Am I what?"  
  
"Hungry, as in the wanting of food, the desire to consume delightful morsels. Would you like to eat? You look slightly weak, as if you haven't been getting enough sustenance since you were brought here." Draco replied patiently. "And that just won't do. You'll need all your strength for tomorrow night."  
  
Harry didn't really know how to reply to this as he was unprepared for this course of events.  
  
Draco decided for him and summoned a house-elf, ordering enough food for about five people, but only choosing things that were quick to prepare. The two sat quietly for a few minutes and then the meal was brought in. Draco motioned for Harry to sit at the small table and help himself but the Gryffindor was still too confused about what was going on. Draco gently manoeuvred the boy over and made him sit. Pushing the fork into Harry's hand, he again urged him to eat before walking back to the bed and unfolding the cloth he had brought in.  
  
A single glittering, gold arrow lay on the cloth and he carefully picked it up. Harry's back was to the blonde due to the place at the table that he had been guided into so the Gryffindor had no idea of what Draco was doing. Quietly, the blonde walked back over and drove the arrow into the other's back before the boy could turn around. It seemed to dissolve, only to reappear where it had been previously lying. He returned to the bed and folded the cloth back up, placing it into the top drawer of the bedside table that stood next to where he slept.  
  
Harry let out a sigh, picked up the knife and started on the eggs.  
  
Draco smiled and took his place on the other chair, to Harry's left, and patiently watched the other eat, waiting to see if it had worked. Harry finally looked up and met Draco's eyes, smiling nervously for a second before shaking his head and looking back down at the plate. Draco gave a smile in return, figuring that at least Harry hadn't been killed by it. "Don't eat too fast, you'll make yourself sick."  
  
When Harry could eat no more, the plates were cleared away and the two sat in silence. It was almost suffocating, but Draco waited for Harry to break it first. Finally, he did.  
  
"Well?"  
  
Draco's eyes flicked to his right. "Well what?"  
  
"I thought you were under orders to break my spirit? That's the impression I got from the morons who were watching over me while we waited."  
  
"Those were my orders, yes."  
  
Another pause, but Harry was obviously not a fan of such things. "And you're going to do that by sitting here quietly?"  
  
"That could work." He said brightly, putting on a hopeful look.  
  
Harry frowned in confusion. "You don't want to hurt me?"  
  
Draco was not surprised by Harry's confusion, but it was still amusing to watch his face. "No. Not really, no. I have more important things on my mind, at this moment." Like how he was going to dance on Voldemort's grave when everything was said and done.  
  
"I thought you would have jumped at the opportunity?"  
  
"Well, the torture I could probably manage. After all, you have pissed me off enough over the years that we've known each other, but the other one..." He trailed off leaving Harry to work out what the problem was.  
  
"You have a problem with rape?"  
  
"Yeah." The blonde shrugged.  
  
"What? Can't get it up?" Harry was almost sounding bitter, as if talking about it was enough to rebuild his guarded attitude.  
  
Draco rolled his eyes, internally wondering if his arrow had, in fact, failed. "That's not a problem at all, I just don't do the R word. I have **some** morals, you know?" A slight noise at the still open door caught his attention but he didn't look around. Harry hadn't heard it because he'd snorted in disbelief at Draco's revelation. Draco tilted his head, studying the other, carefully. "And there's no need to be so rude."  
  
"Well, if you won't do it, what will happen?"  
  
"If Voldemort finds out? I'll be punished and you'll be handed to someone else. Maybe Pettigrew or something." From the look Draco saw on Harry's face, his earlier thought on giving Harry to Pettigrew had been accurate. "Though if we can think of a way to fake it..."  
  
"I'd even prefer your father than Pettigrew." Harry spat, his nose scrunching up with disgust. "If he ever got close enough to me, I might just strangle him. It seems to have been a grave mistake to let him live."  
  
"Well then, you might just get the chance to undo all that and throttle him if that's what you want so badly, because I'm not touching you."  
  
Harry's eyes narrowed. "What? I'm not good enough for you? Would I sully your beautiful hands with my Gryffindor grime?"  
  
Draco had to bite down the laughter harshly. "Er, Potter, you're not suppose to be arguing for me to rape you."  
  
"Well you don't have to make it sound like I'm the scum of the earth."  
  
"I didn't mean for it to sound like that. We have to think of a way to make this work. I personally can't stand the idea of letting Pettigrew have you. We might not be the best of friends but even I think that no one deserves to be presented to the man who betrayed their parents. I know I couldn't stand it." Draco scowled, thinking of how that was actually pretty close to what had happened to him but then shook it off.  
  
"It not like we can just pretend that it happened. I'm a virgin, and he seems to know it." Harry blushed. "It's so embarrassing."  
  
"And why are you a virgin? It's all very complicated now, simply because of that."  
  
"Well, I'm so sorry." Harry snarled back. "I, unlike you obviously, have been busy the last few years. Just never found the time to go and get laid what with running for **my life**, fighting for **my life**, and then there was my all time favourite of helping out my friends who were in danger because they were fighting for **my life**."  
  
"Yes, yes, all right. I didn't ask for **your life** story. My point was, surely you're not under the threat of death every waking second? I'd wager that all your friends managed to find the time to have sex." Draco could actually name a few that he knew for certain would have by now, but decided against it. "Now, if we could just find someone who you wouldn't object to." Draco rocked backwards on his chair slightly, simply waiting for Harry to realise how beautiful he was. "You could sleep with them, I could just give you a few cuts and bruises and voilà, instant sob story about being brutally violated. Then you'd just have to fake being broken for a few minutes, while in their company."  
  
Harry sighed, thinking that sounded like an awful amount of work. And he couldn't help but think that it would be all unnecessary as well. He wasn't too sure what was going on in his head but the only thing he now felt when he looked at the Slytherin was the almost overwhelming feeling that he could be trusted. "You don't have to do all that."  
  
"Of course, if you aren't broken, you'll be able to resist. Hmmm, now who do we have locked up in the storage vaults?"  
  
"Malfoy?" As if it wasn't bad enough that he was clearly going insane with the idea of trusting his long time rival, Harry had the distinct impression that, while pretending not to hear him, Draco was actually waiting for Harry to say that he didn't have to force him to do anything.  
  
"I can't think of anyone who you know. And maybe you resisting is not such a bad thing anyway? Would certainly help me out."  
  
"Can you even hear me? Don't worry about it." Then there was the terrifying thought of how he **wouldn't** have to be forced to do anything. Harry's hormones noted that Draco was quite good looking. Harry's mind chose to ignore this fact.  
  
"There **is** that German boy. He's quite attractive."  
  
"MALFOY?" Harry slapped the table hard, making the blonde blink.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Look don't worry about all that crap. Let's just get this over with." Harry stood up and walked over to the bed, starting to unbutton his new shirt.  
  
Draco turned his head from view and gave a smile that he thought he had earned, figuring that Harry would only have said such a thing if the arrow **did** work and he was just trying to save face by appearing displeased with the situation. "I told you, Potter, I refuse to force you to do such a thing. I'd hate to ever think I had to impose my attentions on anyone." He smirked. "Someone as beautiful as me should never have to sink so low."  
  
Harry shifted form one foot to the other uncomfortably. "You don't have to force me." He muttered.  
  
Draco honestly missed what was said and wasn't trying to be annoying. "Sorry?"  
  
"I said you don't have to force me." Harry said it much louder this time, holding his head high but ruining the effect with the blush that was now spreading down his neck.  
  
Draco raised his eyebrows. "Um, I don't think I follow." He lied.  
  
"Well, you're good looking aren't you?"  
  
Draco tilted his head. "I like to think so."  
  
"Yeah, well you are and at our age that's pretty much all we need."  
  
Draco walked over and looked at him carefully, stepping right up. "You think I'm good looking?" A small smile played over his lips as Harry sighed in a tired manner.  
  
"Of course I do, I'm not blind. Now whether or not I can stand to be in your presence while that foul mouth of yours runs on a continuous basis, usually sprouting horrible..."  
  
Draco had interrupted him with a kiss. It wasn't the most elegant kiss Draco had ever participated in, but he had to admit it was still very pleasant. Not that it mattered, what he was really going for was to see exactly how willing Harry was. Apparently the answer was 'very' if the hands that were now gripping the back of his head had anything to say about it. He pulled back and unthinkingly licked the tiny amount of Harry's saliva that was left on his bottom lip. "Oh, I'm sorry, were you saying something?"  
  
Harry shook his head, pulling his hands back and still confused as to what was going on. "It wasn't important."  
  
"Something about my mouth, I thought?" Grey eyes glinted with amusement.  
  
Hormones surged again. "Who cares." Harry's hands reached for his face and he pulled Draco in for another kiss.  
  
A noise from the open door caught Draco's attention again and this time he had a definite answer for it. "I'll be right back." He said pleasantly as he disentangled himself from Harry's grasp and walked over. _"It works, prepare."_ He whispered as he shut the door. The lock turned with a click. He walked back over to where Harry stood, now with his shirt completely off and about to open the bedside drawer. Draco slammed his hand into the drawer to prevent it from sliding out. "**Don't** open that!"  
  
"Um, okay, sorry. I was, um, just looking for something to, er," it was a good thing that blushes are silent or a deafening sound of some sort would surely have filled the room for the next few minutes.  
  
The blonde sighed, running his hand through his hair. "Look, we don't have to do that anymore, there's been a development. All you have to do is look mournful when you're brought in front of Voldemort tomorrow night. There's a new plan in effect as we speak so it won't matter whether your or a virgin or whether you've been broken or any of that nonsense."  
  
"I know I was rather rude before, sorry." Harry said, trying to work out exactly what had gone so wrong in the last few seconds and how he could fix it. Part of his mind piped up, saying that wanting to sleep with Draco at any time, let alone while imprisoned deep within the enemy stronghold, was the most ludicrous thing he had done to date. Also, that it was unthinkable and made no sense whatsoever. Harry's heart teamed up with his hormones and told his head to butt out, that it had never really taken an interest in anything else before and that it should stick to that role. Harry's mind then and there decided that everything, even itself, must have gone crazy.  
  
Draco resisted the urge to smirk at the disappointed sound in Harry's voice, knowing it might be taken the wrong way. "Always desperate in love." He muttered, referring to the type of person he had long ago classified Harry as. He wondered whether or not he should just take the opportunity anyway, but couldn't quite decide.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Never mind. But so long as you don't mess anything up we should be able to get you out, your virginity still intact. Though if Voldemort doesn't cotton on straight away, it would be easier."  
  
"I **want** to stay." Harry said quietly, confused as to why Draco suddenly seemed so unwilling.  
  
Draco paused thinking it over. He had a fairly passable boy, at least not an ugly one, sitting half naked on his bed, very willing and looking so sweetly confused about something. Most likely about his quick change in manner. Then his thoughts went back to the last time he had allowed someone into his bed. It had been a very long time ago. It had been a very long time since he had even thought about doing such a thing. That pretty much clinched it for him. "Very well. Is there anything else you want?" His voice had almost dropped to a whisper, something that Harry seemed to like if the smile was any indication. Or perhaps it was the question that was liked so much.  
  
"I want you." Harry wasn't too sure what had brought these feelings on all of a sudden, but now did not seem to be the time to question them. The kisses had been intoxicating and now all he could really think about was how he wanted more.  
  
"Very well." Draco stated again and held his hands out to his sides as if proclaiming something, while sizing the other boy up. "I'm right here. What do you want me to do?"  
  
"I'm, well, not very sure. I mean, I know how it's done but I've never... well, you already knew that."  
  
Draco just smiled, deciding that this wouldn't be so bad, that it would certainly help him take his mind off his troubles and the almost overwhelming fear that something would go very wrong on the next night, meaning he would have to endure his father's displeasure. "Well, are you sure you want this?" He managed not to laugh at his own words, knowing that by now the other was probably convinced the world would end if he missed this chance, but he thought he'd better say it anyway.  
  
Harry nodded, completely certain. "I know I want to touch you." Harry reached a hand out but it never made it to the blonde's chest.  
  
"All right then." Draco grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him right up close. "I can show you how it goes." He whispered gently before kissing him again.  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
Harry opened his eyes and let out a small breath. His scar was thumping from the nightmare and he could feel that he was slightly trembling. The skin on his throat felt hot and sore from the tiny nicks and he remembered that Draco had some sort of ointment for **that** pain at least, though it wouldn't help with his scar. A salve that would relieve the irritation but not actually heal the cuts. He carefully slipped off his side of the bed and crept around to the small table next to the sleeping blonde.  
  
Harry frowned as he looked at Draco, wondering what on earth brought on the feelings he now couldn't seem to shake. The same feelings that were starting to scare the hell out of him. He pushed those thoughts aside for the more favourable ones of how Draco looked ethereally beautiful in the low light.  
  
He shook his head, deciding he was obviously under too much stress from his capture and being this close to Voldemort, yet not really believing it. Opening the drawer he found the small container that he was looking for and pulled it out. Some of the ointment must have dripped down the side and hardened on the outside near the bottom, because he pulled a piece of cloth out at the same time. He just managed to catch what was falling out as it unravelled and was really confused to find himself holding a heavy arrow that appeared to be made out of gold. Though, it felt much heavier than what it should if it **was** made of gold.  
  
He took a few side steps to get closer to the wall, holding it up to the nearest torch and turned it in the light, wondering what the hell it was for. Shrugging, he moved to go back to the table and misjudged it as he continued to stare at the arrow, actually running into the open drawer, just below his knee and losing his balance. He dropped the arrow and caught the table for balance.  
  
What he didn't notice was that the arrow fell, then stopped, seeming to hover over to line up with Draco's heart and then continue it's original journey of downwards. It passed through Draco's chest and dissolved, reappearing on the cloth in the drawer.  
  
After checking everything out, Harry decided that he hadn't done too much damage and looked down at the arrow, lying exactly where it should be, thinking to himself that he was very lucky it hadn't made any noise. He refolded the cloth, closed the drawer and went back to his side of the bed, remembering to take the ointment with him.  
  
Draco shifted slightly in his sleep, a sigh escaping his lips as he started to smile. At that sign, a shadow noiselessly slipped out of the room, barely even causing the air to shift.  
  
Its task was done.  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
Draco was awake but dearly wished he could have slept in. Sadly he had things to do. After the very enjoyable and calming round of sex, he and Harry had stayed up for almost the entire night trying to work out how to make him look battered without actually causing much harm. He had placed a strengthening charm on his hands and straddled Harry's back, putting appropriately placed bruises on his arms and shoulders then had taken to very carefully scratching into the top layers of skin with a knife, in an effort to reproduce finger nail marks around his throat. After that it had just been a simple matter of one well thought out, and apologised for in advance, punch to Harry's jaw and Draco had to admit that they'd managed quite well.  
  
During all this Draco had vaguely described what Voldemort planned to do though couldn't give too much information as he wasn't too sure about the details himself. He'd never really bothered to take notice with what was happening, preferring to stick to his own plan for most of the time. Draco had even answered some of the questions about himself that Harry insisted on asking, not the blonde could blame him for doing that. It was just something you did when you were in love.  
  
But he had fallen silent every time Harry had asked what he honestly had against just plain rape. Apparently it wasn't living up to the corrupt, abusive image he had been promoting to the rest of the school since he had started at Hogwarts. Not that he had to care about that anymore, but he had to remind himself of his faith that everything would go according to plan.  
  
Finally, he opened his eyes and stretched his back, wondering what that strange feeling was. He could feel something, as if deep inside, and it confused him. Dismissing it as trepidation over the upcoming night, he walked over to the table and waited for his breakfast to be served. He heard Harry shifting, obviously waking up. "Come have some food, you have a long wait until tonight."  
  
"Okay." Rustling sounds and then Harry was sitting at his side of the table.  
  
Draco gave a nod and caught the other looking at him. He looked back. The strange feeling seemed to shift slightly and it was starting to make some eerie kind of sense. Blinking in shock, Draco looked back down and spent the second half of his speedy breakfast telling himself that he must be going mad. But he kept stealing quick looks to the Gryffindor and every time he did, the terrible suspicion that he didn't actually think Harry was too bad grew just that tiny bit stronger. Okay outside the area of sex, that is. Draco had no real problems about most people in that role.  
  
But by the end of his breakfast, Draco had his head in his hands trying to work out what the hell was going on in his head, with little success, so he bid Harry a disjointed goodbye and headed for the lower levels of the abandoned castle Voldemort had set himself up in.  
  
He oversaw the interrogation of prisoners, yawned his way through the unimaginative torture sessions and muttered with Snape about the master plan, the whole time trying to keep his mind off this morning but again failing. It was always in the back of his thoughts and even Snape said something to the effect that he was acting as though distracted. Nearing the end of the day however, Draco had simply decided that he was clearly going off his head and that perhaps when he was done here he should check himself into St Mungos until it was safe for him to emerge, or until he was dead. Which ever came first, really.  
  
Giving an absent nod as he walked back in to his room, he went straight to the wardrobe and changed his robe. "We have to go, I hope you weren't too bored here, on your own for the whole day."  
  
"I wasn't. On my own, that is."  
  
"What?" Draco looked back and narrowed his eyes.  
  
"Your father came in and taunted me for awhile." Harry hugged himself as if he was cold. "I'm going to die, aren't I?"  
  
Draco smiled despite himself and took this opportunity to really **see** Harry, up close. He wondered briefly why he had never thought the boy appealing before. He wasn't stupid or boring. He didn't seem to have any disgusting habits. He wasn't **horrendously** ugly, though Draco had never been a big fan of scars, especially not ones that were so... visible.  
  
Draco shook his head, trying to get rid of the treacherous thoughts. He tried to remind himself that this was Potter, someone he truly disliked, but it didn't seem to work very well. It didn't help that said person was looking so adorably nervous. "Honestly, what's wrong with me?" He muttered to himself. For a few moments, his mind played encouraging visions of being diagnosed with a rare, bizarre virus that affects the brain, before being interrupted.  
  
"What did you say?"  
  
"You're not going to die, Potter. Not tonight anyway." He grabbed the boy by the arm and pulled him towards the door.  
  
"If I fight back and I **will**, your Lord could discover that you've disobeyed him."  
  
"Like I said last night, there's a new plan in effect." Draco was leading Harry to wherever Voldemort had ordered them to go. All he knew was to keep following the weaving circle of light that was moving on the floor in front of their feet.  
  
"What the hell does that mean?"  
  
Draco checked briefly that they were alone before replying. "It means that with a little luck, Voldemort won't be an issue by the end of tonight. Now shut up and look conquered. Everyone must be there already."  
  
"Won't be an issue?"  
  
"Just don't do anything **exceptionally** stupid. If you keep it to a mild level of foolishness, we should all come out of this alive. Well, not Voldemort, but that's the whole point now, isn't it."  
  
"What the hell is going on?"  
  
"Just..." Draco shrugged. "Just do what you do." He pushed gently for Harry to go through the wall of the apparent dead end they had reached.  
  
"And what would that be then?"  
  
Draco rolled his eyes at all the questions. "Survive against all the odds." And then gave him a hard shove.  
  
But Harry just managed to catch his arm and stop from going through. "No wait! Can I, um..."  
  
"Can you what?" Draco was getting irritable with all the tension.  
  
"Can I just have one last kiss? Just to calm me down." Harry cringed, knowing he sounded pathetic.  
  
Draco nodded, realising he should have thought of that earlier. He really didn't need this night to be upset by anything and stopping the boy from being so terrified would certainly help. He slid his hand to the back of Harry's head and pulled him closer. The impact of it would have made his brain stumble if he had never experienced this before. The kiss was what he would call perfect, even though he knew there was no such thing. He even had to remind himself to break it off. Stunned, he looked at Harry, a very foreboding feeling was slowly making its way through him. A warning of the things to come. He gently nudged the other boy to continue.  
  
Harry passed through the wall and Draco followed to arrive in a large room where Death Eaters lined the walls. One quick look to Harry showed him that Harry was putting on his 'broken' look that he had been practising while Draco made the cuts on his throat. Draco again hoped that Harry didn't want to become an actor when he left school, but it would do for now. He snarled under his breath as Voldemort dismissed him with the wave of a hand. Stepping backwards into the shadows, he waited until he was certain Voldemort's full attention was on Harry, then looked around to find Snape.  
  
Even with all the masks on, he could tell which one it was. He could feel the irritability as Snape longed to get this all over with. Snape caught him looking and nodded to indicate that everything was going as it should be and Draco relaxed somewhat, though still shaken from the kiss. He vaguely registered that Voldemort was doing his usual routine of ridiculing Harry before trying to kill him.  
  
The anger that flared up at the idea of anyone hurting Harry was not wholly unexpected by this time, although Draco had hoped it wouldn't happen. The blonde rubbed at his eyes in a tired manner as he realised that he was going to have to do something about that before things got worse. But that would have to be for later as Voldemort had finished explaining every little thing of the upcoming absorption ritual and had asked Snape to bring forward the preparatory concoction.  
  
Harry was half bored, half terrified, an unusual combination that he'd never fully experienced before. Every time he glanced to where he knew Draco was standing, the calming feeling that everything would be fine washed over him in a soothing way, easing his nerves, though not really diminishing his confusion. He listened as Voldemort barked on about sucking the life and power out of his body and returning it to his rightful place, namely Voldemort himself, though Harry occasionally itched to say that his parents had actually been the people to give him life. But now Professor Snape, Harry had brightened considerably at the name 'Severus', was bringing over a potion for him to drink and while he couldn't see the older man's face, Harry would allow it to be poured down his throat without any trouble.  
  
They might hate each other but Snape wouldn't kill Harry anymore than Harry would kill Snape. A fact Dumbledore had been most delighted with when it was proven last year.  
  
Snape held the beaker steadily in front of Harry's face as Voldemort gave a last minute pep talk to his cronies and Harry stared at the pink mixture and then blinked in surprise. He could have sworn he had seen a man's face in it. Tuning out Voldemort, he looked harder, thinking it might be his own reflection, or simply the mask Snape wore on the other side of the glass but had to dismiss those theories because this time he definitely saw it.  
  
It was the face of a beautiful man, someone Harry was sure he knew but also was certain that he had never seen before, so was startled by the leap his heart seemed to take. This time he didn't need to look to where Draco stood. The feeling of reassurance was unshakeable. By the time Snape made a show of forcing him to drink the potion down, his fear of the situation had completely drained away, never to return. Even as Voldemort laughed in triumph and walked closer, all he could think of was about how he was going to get to Hogwarts once all this silly nonsense of Dark Lords and Death Eaters was over.  
  
The Cruciatus knocked him to his knees, but other than slightly winding him from the impact to his chest, there was no pain. He wondered briefly if that was what the potion was suppose to do.  
  
"You can feel it weakening you, can't you?" Voldemort laughed again. "The potion, feeling it suck the energy out of you."  
  
'Actually no,' Harry thought, thinking it wise not to actually say it. 'I feel quite good.' Harry looked up as Snape removed his mask but then frowned. It was Snape, but it wasn't. For a brief second Harry could have sworn he'd seen someone else. Then his vision seemed to blur as the potion signified that it had completed its task. It was a rather nice sensation.  
  
Draco watched quietly from the sidelines and then clicked his fingers, feeling the gold arrow materialised into the hand that he held behind his back. He waited for Voldemort to take the companion potion that Snape was offering out to him, a much darker pink than the one Harry had taken, and then clicked his fingers a second time. A splendid bow appeared in his free hand, made of gold and silver with various precious gems embedded along its length. Draco notched the arrow and pulled back the finely spun lead that was the string. Taking careful aim he let loose the arrow and watched it sail directly into Voldemort's chest.  
  
Harry blinked and looked at the arrow as if he was seeing correctly. Voldemort didn't even appear to have noticed that he was struck. It dissolved, leaving no wound. Looking behind him, Harry saw Draco holding a very beautiful bow and another arrow that looked exactly like the last one. He tilted his head, trying to silently ask where they had come from.  
  
Draco frowned in confusion and then saw Harry's eyes move back to the bow. His brain gave him the most obvious conclusion, that he had been seen. Shocked, Draco moved to stand behind the masked man next to him, his back to the other man's back. No one else seemed to realise that anything was wrong.  
  
"Something wrong?" Snape muttered, even though he didn't know exactly where Draco was.  
  
Draco grabbed the other man's arm. "He saw me!" He hissed out from between his teeth.  
  
"What? Voldemort?" Snape shot a panicked look to where the Dark Lord stood, silent for once.  
  
"No." Draco shook his head even though that was pointless gesture. "Harry. Somehow, he saw me."  
  
"Will that affect the plan?"  
  
Draco looked around to where Harry was now watching Voldemort doubling over and starting to shout abuse. "No, but you'd better hurry. He'll crack at any moment." Snape moved to leave but Draco gripped his arm harder. "Tell them I said hello."  
  
Snape nodded and stalked back into the middle of the room where Voldemort was now screaming in pain. The other Death Eaters were shifting nervously, beginning to wonder if this was all part of the ritual.  
  
Harry watched in wonder as Voldemort looked to him and then reached out a hand. He had the disturbing thought that the evil wizard was going to caress his face, only to have said hand suddenly knocked away and pinned to the floor with another of those arrows. Harry looked to Draco who was currently sporting the look of severe jealousy. That cheered Harry up, though he didn't want to think about why. Voldemort didn't notice either the arrow striking his hand or when it dissolved.  
  
The Death Eaters were really panicking now because the report of an attack had just come from the main gates. Most of them hurriedly left the room, not willing to get caught, while some actually went to fight off the intruders. Snape had grabbed Voldemort and hauled him to his feet, yelling at Harry to get back. A line of light seemed to split Voldemort right down the middle and Harry, still on his knees, felt someone tackle him to the ground, using their body to block him from the blast wave and a hand fell over his eyes.  
  
A blinding light lit the whole room, making the remaining followers scream in pain and clutch at their eyes. Even behind the hand Harry could tell that it was dazzling. It faded out and he was rolled onto his back, the protective body lying on top of him, the hand moved, allowing Harry to see the very still bodies of Snape and Voldemort lying a little way off. Blinded Death Eaters rolled on the ground, moaning in pain and clutching at their faces. Harry looked up into calm, grey eyes.  
  
"You know, Harry." Draco started, as he partially raised himself up by his hands. "If someone screams at you to get the hell out of the way, you might want to try doing so, next time."  
  
Harry nodded quietly, his hands sliding up Draco's sides and then to his face.  
  
Draco made a coughing sound. "We should probably get up."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Neither of them moved to do so.  
  
"They might need our help." Draco flicked his head in the direction that the sound of battle could be heard to be coming closer.  
  
"Yeah." Harry brushed his thumbs along Draco's cheek bones.  
  
"Dumbledore would probably like to see us."  
  
"Yeah." Harry nodded again.  
  
Draco slowly lowered himself back down, tilted his head slightly and kissed him. One of Harry's hands slid to the back of the blonde head while the other was quite content to stroke the pale face.  
  
They were still like that when Dumbledore arrived with the rescue party.  
  
  
To Be Continued. 


End file.
